e--yes."

"Well, I'll be gum swizzled!" exclaimed Bill. "Say, did the elephant
step on you or one of the tent wagons roll over you?"

"Neither one. I'm down and out, that's all--and it's enough, too."

"Well, that's enough, I should say," commented the clown, as he took the
bottle of stimulant Joe handed him. "Last I heard of you you'd gone on a
theater circuit. That was just after you'd quit the Dobling show."

"Yes, I did do a theater circuit," admitted Ham Logan. "But it didn't
last. Or rather, I didn't last. I was just asking the young man here for
a job. I said you'd remember me."

"Well, I certainly do," returned the old clown, who was not to do his
act until later in the day.

"And I'm sorry to see you in this state, Ham. You did me a good turn
once, and I haven't forgotten. Stick around a while, and I'll see you
as soon as I play first-aid. Joe, if it isn't asking too much, will you
look after Ham for a while? He used to be a good sort, and--"

"Better say too much of a 'good _sport_,'" paraphrased the man.

"I'll take care of him," promised Joe. "Did you say you were hungry?"
asked the young magician, as the old clown turned and hurried away with
the ammonia.

"You said it! But I'm not altogether a grafter. I can work for what I
eat." And again there was a flash of pride.

"We'll talk of that later," said Joe. "Just now I want to get you
something to eat. Here, take that over to the dining tent," and he
scribbled a few words on one of his cards. "After you've eaten all you
want, and after the show this afternoon, look me up."

"Do you think you can give me work?" asked the man eagerly. "I don't
mean to act," he hastened to say. "I'm past that--down and out. But I'm
strong. I can pull on the ropes or drive stakes."

"We'll talk of that later," replied Joe gently. "Go and eat now."

"Well, I sure can feed my face!" exclaimed the man. "I--I don't know how
to thank you. Bill will tell you that I wasn't a bad fellow in my day.
I just lost my nerve--that's all. False friends and fire-water--"

"See me later," said Joe, with a friendly wave of his hand. And the man
hurried toward the dining tent, next to the cook wagons. Already he
seemed imbued with more hope and pride, something that filled Joe with
pleasure.

Joe busied himself with mixing the chemicals in the pail. As Ham Logan
had guessed, the young fire-eater was mixing up a solution of tungstate
of soda. This chemical is a salt, made by roastin